


I Still Believe

by halfwit



Series: In Sickness and In Health [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, F/M, I cried a bucket writing this, M/M, One Shot, Sad Dean, Sick Dean, So much angst, Supportive Bobby, Supportive Ellen, cancer fic, why do I do this to myself?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-17
Updated: 2015-07-17
Packaged: 2018-04-09 18:01:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4358825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfwit/pseuds/halfwit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean has been hiding from his parents. Ever since he received the diagnosis that his cancer was back, he's stayed away. He doesn't want to worry them. With the holidays fast approaching, he doesn't want his illness to mar the season, so he plans a trip home to tell them the news.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Still Believe

**Author's Note:**

> I swear I didn't mean this to be this sad. I originally planned for nice fluffy piece to be next, but this little plot bunny came to me and would not leave me alone until I wrote it. Sorry :-(

Dean had been putting this off as long as he could. He knew he shouldn’t try to avoid it as long as he had, but the longer he stalled, the harder it became to say the words.

Of course many of the most important people in his life knew, Gabriel, Castiel, and Sam, obviously all knew, the crazy guys had shaved their heads in solidarity for him. And, of course the people at the hospital knew, it was kind of difficult to avoid that conversation when at any given moment you might have to run out of a consultation to hurl into a nearby trashcan, courtesy of the wonderful side effects of chemotherapy. However, to this point, he had not told the other two most important people in his life…Bobby and Ellen, his mother and father.

He didn’t know what to say to them. How do you tell them the worst? How do you say to the people who raised you, and already went through this once that you are fighting this battle again? It was easy to keep it a secret, keep them safe. Castiel and Dean lived in California, near Stanford so that Dean could complete his residency. They originally hated moving so far away from their family, but when Sam moved closer as well, things got a little easier. And, they still saw Bobby and Ellen and Castiel’s parents on all the holidays. It’s just, at a time like this, the distance also made it easier to withhold certain facts.

With the holidays coming, he didn’t want the festive occasions to be marred by his news; he owed it to Bobby and Ellen to tell them before, and to tell them in person.

That’s how Dean found himself clutching the armrests of his tiny seat on a plane hurtling thousands of miles an hour across the country. Castiel volunteered to come with him, but the timing wasn’t the best; his firm was working on a major audit and if it went well, Castiel could have a promotion in his future. Plus, Dean reasoned, it might be easier if he did this by himself – not the plane part, God no, that would have been infinitely easier with Castiel to hold his hand; but, the rest of it.

Once the plane landed, Dean had to stop himself from falling to the ground to kiss it in a reenactment of every cliché he had ever seen. He gathered up his bags, found his rental car and turned it on to the once familiar streets of his teenage years, the most stable home he’d had, until what he has now with Castiel.

Pulling up to the house, he saw Bobby’s rickety, old, rust bucket of a pickup truck parked in the driveway, a striking contrast to Ellen’s new and modern Subaru. Seeing both of their cars made him realize they both were home, and they had absolutely no idea he was coming. This was a bad idea. Maybe he should have had Sammy come with him; at least his giant moose of a brother would distract some from him. Too late for second guessing.

Cutting the engine, Dean let his forehead rest lightly on the steering wheel. “You are Dean fucking Winchester,” he told himself. “You’ve got this. You can do this.”

Jerking the car door open and bounding up the walkway, Dean was ringing the doorbell before he could second guess himself.

“Just a minute,” he heard his mother’s throaty drawl call, as though she was coming from upstairs. Just hearing her voice made his nerves skyrocket, his heart was jackhammering in his chest, he wouldn’t be surprised if it burst out of his chest, like he had seen on the old Saturday morning cartoons.

Before he could work himself into more of a panic, the door was flung open and he found himself face to face with Ellen Harvelle-Singer, his adoptive mother, truly the only mother he’d ever known. A flood of emotions crossed her face when she realized who was standing on her stoop.

“Dean?” she breathed in disbelief. “What? How? What are you doing here, boy?”

The young man had to smile. It wasn’t often that one could get the drop on the grand dame of their family, so even in these circumstances, he had to smile that he had rendered her semi-speechless.

“Hey Ma,” he said, a genuine grin lighting up his handsome, but drawn features. “Ya gonna invite me in, or am I gonna stand in the doorway all day?”

As he intended, his snarky reply jolted Ellen out of her stupor and had her pulling him in for a tight hug.

“Oh my boy,” she said and Dean could practically hear the tears in her voice. “It is so good to see you.”

Dean wrapped his arms around her, closing his eyes and relishing this moment of closeness. In her arms he felt safe; he felt protected. Nothing could hurt him as long as Ellen and Bobby were around – that was the lodestone he had clung to during his first go around with cancer, and he found it grounding him again this time.

“You are getting too skinny Winchester,” his mother mock-reprimanded, swatting him lightly on the arm. Despite her light-hearted words, he could see the concern and a touch of fear in her expressive dark eyes. He also knew she probably was wondering why he was wearing a beanie hat inside the house. It wasn’t a fashion statement he ever had made before.

“Robert,” she called, feeling her husband was going to want to be here, too. “You get your lazy ass down here. We’ve got a visitor.”

A few minutes later, Dean heard the distinctive heavy thump of his adoptive father’s work boots. “I’m coming woman,” Bobby grumbled, voice grumpy though there was an undeniable warmth underlying them. “Who’s so important that you interrupted my….Dean?”

“Hey Dad,” Dean said, smile again in place. “Long time no see.”

The older man hurried across the room and enveloped his son into as warm an embrace as his wife had previously. As his wife had, he noticed that Dean was much thinner than he had been, and there were fine tremors wracking his tall frame – so fine that Bobby wasn’t sure Dean even was aware of them. Before he pulled out of the embrace, Bobby looked up to catch Ellen’s eye over their son’s shoulder; he saw reflected on her face the same concern he was feeling. Something wasn’t right.

“Not that we’re not happy to see ya, boy,” Bobby said, pulling out of the embrace, “but, what are ya doing here? Where’s Cas? Is he not with ya?”

Dean brought his hand up to the back of his neck and started to rub; it was a nervous habit, something he had done ever since he was a kid, and he never could get over it. Because this was a tick from childhood, Bobby and Ellen had seen it more times than they could count, which put them even more on alert as to a problem. They hoped that Castiel and Dean weren’t having problems.

“Let’s go sit in the living room and you can tell us what this is all about,” Ellen said, grabbing Dean’s arm and leading him effortlessly into the living room.

Bobby and Ellen’s living room was exactly that – a room full of life. Dean felt the tears prickle and burn in his eyes, making them shine brighter than normal. Around the room, he could see the various stages of his, Sam’s, and Castiel’s lives. He saw the photographs of their graduations. Ellen had proudly displayed several photographs from Dean and Castiel’s wedding, what a beautiful day that had been. As he looked around the room, Dean was caught up in the deluge of memories, some happy, some not. He didn’t want to bring even the specter of darkness to enter this area, but he had to do it.

“So, um, there’s something I need to tell you all and I didn’t want to do it over the phone,” Dean began.

“Are you and Cas okay?” Ellen couldn’t help asking, she thought it was strange her son-in-law wasn’t there. If the two boys were fighting that could provide an explanation for Dean’s sallow complexion, which was more evident in the open lighting of the living room rather than what she could see in the entryway.

“Yes, Cas and I are good,” Dean replied, an affectionate smile on his face. “He’s working on a big project, could get a promotion out of it. And, I thought this might be something easier for just the three of us.”

“Well don’t dance around it, Dean, just tell us straight,” Bobby said, his voice a little harsher than he intended, but he could feel the cold fingers of fear wrapping themselves around his heart. He needed to know what prompted his son to visit, especially looking as ill as he did.

“I got some bad news a few months ago,” Dean began, but didn’t get any further.

“A few months ago!” Ellen practically screeched. “Whatever it is you’re gonna tell us, you’ve known for MONTHS?!!”

Dean recoiled at the vitriol in his mother’s normal measured tones. He hadn’t expected his parents to be quite so upset this early in the conversation.

“Yes ma’am,” Dean said, ducking his head somewhat sheepishly. “I didn’t want to tell you on the phone.”

“Well yer here now, so get to spilling,” Bobby prodded.

“I wasn’t feeling so well, so I had a friend of mine do some tests and they came back worse than I expected,” Dean explained, trying to temper his words as much as possible, but finding it difficult to do in the face of the shocked and hurt expressions on the faces of two of the dearest people in the world to him. He was going to have to power through – just like ripping off a Band-Aid.

“My cancer’s back,” he blurted out before he could stop himself, it was like his brain and his tongue had a disconnect and his tongue was running away from him. “Benny, that’s my friend and my oncologist, he said it is in the earlier stages, but not the earliest. He said that we are going to attack it with everything we can, but we have to be realistic that even if we are able to beat it back again, the five year survival rate for gastric cancer is not the greatest, especially for someone like me who already has been in remission once and had it recur.”

Ellen and Bobby sat in shocked silence. The words were reverberating through their heads, but try as they might, nothing was making sense. Ellen found herself reaching a hand out blindly to grab on to her husband, who grasped it as though it were a lifeline. Children weren’t supposed to die before their parents. They faced this nightmare once and it was awful; but God help them, in a way it was easier then. Back when Dean had his first bout of cancer, they loved him, sure, but he wasn’t fully theirs – he still belonged to John and Mary in some small way. Now? This time? This was their boy. He may not have come from their blood, but their family didn’t end in blood, and it didn’t begin their either. To lose him this time? It would be a blow they would not recover from; not fully.

“When do you start treatments?” Ellen asked, her voice thick with unshed tears, but her practical nature trying to take over.

“I’ve already started,” Dean admitted, removing his baseball cap to show his bald head. “The drugs are a little stronger this time around, and they’ve affected me a little more than before.”

The Singers could barely contain their gasps as they saw the reality of Dean’s condition. Without his hat not only was his lack of hair evident, but the deep, dark shadows under his eyes, the burst blood vessel in his right eye, and the obvious weight loss which hollowed his cheeks were all on display.

“You should have told us, Dean,” Ellen whispered, her anger rising to the surface. “We are your parents and we had the right to know!”

“I know, Mama,” he said, getting up from where he was seated and kneeling in front of her, clutching her free hand in both of his. “I’m sorry. I wanted to spare you this, if I could, but I didn’t think I could any longer.”

“Idjit,” Bobby cursed. “Yer a damn fool if ya thought we wouldn’t want ta know. Yer our son, and something that hurts you, hurts us, and we want ta be there for ya, if nothing else, for moral support.”

Dean felt the tears spill over his eyes, unchecked. He couldn’t hold back his emotions in the face of his parents’ sorrow. “I’m so sorry Dad,” he cried. “I really am. I didn’t know what to do.”

Ellen freed her hand from her son’s and ran her finger gently over his head, a soothing motion.

“You listen to me, Dean Winchester,” she said, barely fighting back her own tears. “There is nothing so much in this world that your Daddy and I love more than you and Sam. So, you don’t keep this from us, nothing like this ever again, do you understand me?”

“Yes ma’am,” Dean replied, dutifully, closing his eyes slightly as he enjoyed having his mother take care of him.

“Good,” she replied, a look of fierce determination taking over her features. “Now, you’re gonna tell me what you can and can’t eat this time around, and you’re gonna let me feed you. Then you’re gonna rest for a little while and we’ll make plans for how we tackle this.”

Dean scrubbed his hands over his eyes roughly, chasing the errant tears still falling. “What’d ’ya mean how _we_ are going to tackle this?” Dean asked, brow furrowing in confusion. “Mama, there’s not much you and Dad can do for me back here.”

“Exactly,” Bobby replied, picking up where his wife left off. “That’s why we’re gonna come back with ya, idjit. We’re gonna stay with ya until ya kick this.”

Shaking his head frantically, Dean objected. “You can’t do that! You have a life here, a home, businesses, you can’t just up and leave!”

Ellen looked as though she wanted to smack him, but then thought better of it. “Boy, what good is owning your own business if you can’t take time for family. Plus, I’ve hired people I trust to run the place, and it is only for as long as you need us, just until you get better.”

Dean sniffled and raised wide green-eyes, looking more vulnerable than Ellen had seen them shine in years, and it broke her heart that much more.

“Do you mean that?” Dean asked, a small hiccup escaping him. “Do you really think I can beat this again?”

Smiling her brightest smile and hoping it was convincing, “I believe in you, Dean. And I still believe that even though the statistics might say one thing, they haven’t taken into consideration what a stubborn ass you can be when you set your mind to things. You are strong, you are brave, you have excellent care, and a family that will support you through thick and thin. Yeah, baby, I think you’ve got this.”

A hopeful smile broke out across Dean’s face at his mother’s words and he hugged her briefly. “Awesome! I’m going to run to the bathroom and get cleaned up and then we can do lunch?”

“Sure thing, baby,” Ellen replied, patting him gently on the cheek, her heart clenching painfully at the wide smile he gave her back.

Once she heard the door shut to the bathroom, she finally turned and faced her husband, and saw reflected in his face and eyes the same devastation she felt in her heart.

“Ellen-“ Bobby began, with a cracked plea.

“You hush now,” Ellen said, hastily swiping away her own tears. “We can fall apart tonight after he’s in bed, now we have to be strong.”

Bobby nodded in agreement, schooling his features into something that resembled his usual gruff demeanor.

“What are we gonna do, El?” Bobby asked, still fighting his emotions. “This is our boy.”

“We’re gonna do exactly what I promised that boy,” she said, gaining strength in her own convictions. “We are gonna help him fight and kick cancer in the ass again.”

“You want to leave our home and move to Cali with the boys for God knows how long?” Bobby asked.

“Want to? No.” Ellen replied, feeling herself become more calm with each passing moment, it was probably just shock settling in. “But, I’ll be damned if I let those boys fight this alone. We are going to be there every step of the way; and, if it doesn’t end in our favor, at least we were there to fight the good fight.”

“And do you think that is going to happen?” Bobby asked, the fear of the situation evident in his voice, too raw for him to contain at the moment.

Ellen paused, uncertain of what she wanted to say. She knew there was a chance she was going to lose another baby. When Joanna died, she had been just a baby, and the pain was terrible, but Ellen knew losing a grown child would hurt even worse because she had so many years of memories; so many places that she could go that would remind her of her Dean and the moments they had shared together. Her heart broke when Joanna died, but it may never be repaired if she lost Dean, and that was something she was not willing to face, so it made her answer all the more clear.

“No,” she said, firmly while still keeping her voice pitched low so Dean wouldn’t overhear. “No, I don’t think that is going to happen. I believe that we are going to beat this.”

Bobby nodded and squeezed her hand – that he had never let go of since Dean first broke the news – and stood up to go toward his office; he had a lot of calls to make to put his affairs in order while they were in California.

Ellen sat in the now too-quiet room and looked at the photographs on the mantle. All the wonderful memories she had with her boys over the years. She was not going to miss out on more moments like those. She was going to help her son with everything she had.

Pushing herself out of her seat, Ellen walked toward the kitchen to take stock of her ingredients. First, she was going to feed her son; then, she was going to make some calls. She was going to California and she wouldn’t be coming back until her son was healthy again.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, again, so sorry for the feels. I sobbed buckets while writing this. Poor Dean, I make him suffer through so much. Let me know what you think. Love to you all <3


End file.
